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... to Izel so Tristan could get his hands on the man’s knife and cut free of the rope around his hands and feet.
Once the last of it fell he pulled upright and groaned, rolling his shoulders. The beating from Kiran hadn’t hurt anywhere important – more because of the Skiritai’s restraint than any skill of Tristan’s – but he’d still pick up a few bruises. Maybe he should have set aside something for the pain, considering he still had a long night ahead of him, but he balked at the idea of t ...
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